There in the background is a soundtrack hum.
Cars past but the beat and the whispered lyrics remain.
No violins.
Just the song that's followed you your entire life.
You can't get it out of your head.
You can't remember the lyrics or the chords.
If you could only make it stop repeating you could end this movie and
fade to black.
White letters scrolling up, telling you who was in control.
Scrolling up and telling you who played your part.
John Kipling Lewis
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hum-2/
